


Uncharted Territory

by AFey



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFey/pseuds/AFey
Summary: ”Well, nothing’s changed has it?” Miranda asks, doing her best not to sound desperate.“I suppose not,” says Andrea, and if Miranda didn’t know better she’d think they were both disappointed.





	Uncharted Territory

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading!

Andy knows they shouldn’t be doing this at all, let alone in public.

 

For one thing there’s Nate. Back from Boston and willing to try again. Even worse, Miranda’s still married to Stephen. Divorce papers on hold, playing one more round of happy family.  

 

She catches Miranda’s eye in the bathroom mirror and as always her doubts dissolve.  Lust and quiet desperation greet her and she knows by now that all her skills will be needed.

 

Andy uses her fingers, mouth and tongue and by the time she’s finished, Miranda’s a sweaty, glorious mess.

 

As their breathing returns to normal, the evening continues in an entirely predictable way.  

 

“We have to stop doing this,” Miranda says as she pulls away.

 

Andy watches quietly as her lover reapplies her makeup, and with it, her iconic Snow Queen persona.  

 

“I know,’’ Andy agrees, as she washes her hands and then starts fixing her hair. She knows her line and never forgets it, though by now they both know it’s meaningless.

 

No more words are spoken until Miranda, perfection restored, unlocks the bathroom door. “Stephen will be away next weekend as will the girls.”

 

“Miranda, you can’t just expect me to be available whenever it’s convenient for you. I have a life you know.”

 

“I never expect, Andrea. Only hope,” says Miranda, her voice quiet and sad.

 

Andy searches for a response but before she finds it Miranda opens the door and leaves without a backward glance.

 

******

 

“What are we doing?”

 

Miranda pauses, raises her head from between Andrea’s legs, and quirks an eyebrow. “Well, I thought I was pleasuring you. Clearly that was not the case.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

The mood broken, Miranda moves from her favourite position and gets out of bed. Reaching for her discarded robe, she glances down at Andrea, “Must we have this conversation again?”

 

“Again? When have we ever had this conversation, Miranda?”

 

She ties her robe and sits down on the bed, keeping her distance from Andrea. It’s the only way she can keep her emotions at bay.

 

“The third time we fucked as I recall,” she says, her voice cool even as she feels the heat of her blush.  She glares at Andrea, wondering what this revelation will cost her.

 

“Oh,” comes the reply, before a small smile flashes across her lover’s face. ‘You’re right. The balcony at Emily’s farewell party. Still, that was three months ago.”

 

“Well, nothing’s changed has it?” Miranda asks, doing her best not to sound desperate.

 

“I suppose not,” says Andrea, and if Miranda didn’t know better she’d think they were both disappointed.

 

******

 

“You seem distracted,” she says, her fingers trailing down Miranda’s side as they lie naked in Andy’s bed.

 

“I can smell him,” Miranda replies, pulling away from Andy. “Have you even changed the sheets since the last time you fucked him?”

 

Andy sighs and sits up in the bed.  The truth is no sex has taken place in the apartment for at least a month. “If you must know, I changed the sheets before you came over.”  A huff of disbelief is all she receives in response.

 

“It’s a small apartment, Miranda. Of course it’s going to smell like Nate.”

 

“Well, it’s most disappointing,” Miranda says, as she turns and faces Andy. “I don’t need a reminder of that fry cook you insist on wasting your life with.”

 

Andy launches herself out of the bed in anger. Where does Miranda, the married one in this equation, get off talking about reminders?

 

“I’m not the one who insists on remaining married to a drunken idiot,” she spits out with disgust. “You know what, Miranda?  Fuck you!”

 

The silence is heavy as she waits for a reply.  Miranda regards her with a blank look and Andy hates that Miranda is unaffected by her heated words.

 

“Is that an insult or a to-do list?”

 

Andy shakes her head and stalks back to the bed. “It’s a preview of the next thirty minutes of your life,” she growls, pulling Miranda roughly to her side.

 

An hour later, she closes the door behind Miranda and lets out a sigh.  Maybe Miranda is happy playing both wife and mistress, but for Andy the pretence is wearing thin.

 

******

 

“You’ve been drinking,” Miranda says, once she pulls away from Andrea’s lips. They’re alone on the balcony but even still, it’s a risk.

 

“It’s an open bar and the speeches are dull. What else would I be doing?”

 

“And you’ve been flirting shamelessly with that writer boy,” she says, running her fingers lightly across conveniently exposed shoulders.  

 

“Jealous?”

 

“Why should I be jealous?” Miranda lies as she runs her hands down the curves of Andrea’s body.  There’s no way she’ll admit just how much the idea of Christian Thompson touching Andrea drives her to the brink of insanity. Bad enough she has to compete with one unworthy male.

 

“Either way, you don’t get to be jealous, Miranda. You have a husband, remember?”

 

She does her best not to react to the accusation. It’s one Andrea resorts to often, even though Miranda is certain that it’s the thrill of the forbidden that maintains her lover’s interest.  

 

“How could I forget,” Miranda mutters, as she decides not to reveal that she’s mere days away from serving Stephen with divorce papers. Andrea is young and there’s no way that she regards a middle-aged mother like her as a serious relationship option. No, it’s best if she pretends this is still just a casual affair she can live without.

 

“Should I make you forget?” Andrea asks, and there’s a predatory gleam in her eye that has Miranda clenching her thighs.

 

“Immediately,” Miranda demands, just before her lips are captured in a passionate kiss.  Clearly this is just sex for Andrea, and perhaps that will need to be enough for her, too.

 

******

 

“I broke up with Nate,” Andy says the moment Miranda opens the door. “I couldn’t live a lie any longer.”

 

“And what lie might that be?” Miranda asks with such disinterest that Andy wonders if she’s been imagining a connection.  Perhaps all she is to Miranda is a distraction.

 

She makes her way into the townhouse and takes off her coat. Tilting her head, she looks intently at Miranda and attempts to keep her voice steady. “The one where I pretend to be a doting girlfriend while I’m in love with my former boss.”

 

Andy’s coat is pulled from her hands and dropped on the floor of the foyer. “Stephen’s gone. We’re getting a divorce.”  

 

“I’ve heard that one before,” Andy mutters, looking down at the floor, not ready to believe that this particular dream is coming true.

 

“I had to try again for my girls. You know that, Andrea.”

 

“So what’s changed now?” Andy asks, her eyes still fixed on the floor of Miranda’s foyer.

 

“Did you stop to think I might have been tired of living a lie, too?”

 

“And what lie might that be?” Andy asks, doing nothing to keep the hope out of her voice.

 

“The one where I pretend to be interested in my husband when all I can think about is making love to my ex-assistant.”

 

At that, Andy looks up and smiles. She can’t remember ever feeling so happy.

 

“It won’t be easy, you realise. The press will be merciless, so we’ll need to be discreet.”

 

“I can be discreet,” promises Andy as she reaches out for Miranda’s hand.

 

“Yes, sex in my foyer with the door open is the very definition of discreet.”

 

Andy walks over and closes the door. She turns to face Miranda and smirks. “Who said anything about sex? I think we need to talk about our relationship.”

 

“Get over here, Andrea,” Miranda growls. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk afterwards.”

 

“Yes, Miranda.”

 

******

 

“The partition gives us privacy, Andrea. It’s not the cone of silence.”

 

“I’m sorry,” comes the reply, and Miranda shakes her head at the insincerity.

 

“Thankfully Roy likes you. Otherwise, our affair would be splashed across Page Six before we even dropped you home.”

 

Andrea grins at her before she reaches across to tidy Miranda’s hair.

 

“Is it technically an affair if neither of us has another partner?”

 

“Shall I call Rupert Murdoch and get his opinion?” Miranda asks, in a haughty voice. “You keep forgetting how your peers will twist any story to make it fit their own narrative.”

 

Miranda feels the light slap of Andrea’s hand on her arm and watches with amusement as she crosses her arms and pouts.

 

“I can’t believe you’re comparing me to those trolls.”

 

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day instead?”

 

Andrea laughs at that, and despite the cliche, it really is like music to Miranda’s ears.

******

“How are the girls?” Andy asks.

 

“Andrea,” sighs Miranda. “Why do you insist on killing the mood?”

 

“Forget I said anything,” she murmurs into Miranda’s ear.

 

Andy holds her breath and then relaxes as Miranda’s fingers return to a familiar rhythm.  Thoughts of the twins are soon banished from her mind and she kisses Miranda with her usual hunger.  

 

Afterwards, they shower and only then does Miranda answer her question.

 

“The girls are fine. The gossip wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.”

 

“Thank God for Madonna and Guy’s divorce, right?”

 

“Indeed,” Miranda says, as she reaches for the shampoo. “Our affair could never compete with that drama.  Very thoughtful of them, really.  I must send her some hydrangeas.”

 

Andy laughs and is delighted to see the answering smirk on Miranda’s face.  

 

“You’re so evil. You know Madge hates hydrangeas.”

 

“Very well. I’ll send her freesias instead.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Storm. You know why.


End file.
